


Everything in Black and White

by megyal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anger, Bitterness, Epistolary, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-29
Updated: 2007-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-23 09:52:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco writes to Harry from prison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything in Black and White

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://slythindor100.livejournal.com/profile)[**slythindor100**](http://slythindor100.livejournal.com/) 's Double Entendre Fun, Friday Edition. Tagged by [](http://lire-casander.livejournal.com/profile)[**lire_casander**](http://lire-casander.livejournal.com/) with the phrase: _"Look at those old photographs"_. I had planned something very fluffy, but nothing like that come out. At all.
> 
> Many thanks to [](http://lomonaaeren.livejournal.com/profile)[**lomonaaeren**](http://lomonaaeren.livejournal.com/) and [](http://lesinnocents.livejournal.com/profile)[**lesinnocents**](http://lesinnocents.livejournal.com/) who did a thorough and quick read-through.

As part of a rehabilitation course here at the illustrious Greyhaven Minimum Security Penal Complex, it has been suggested that I take up some hobby. This really means that the longer I refuse to participate in their little Make-Over-The-Failed-DeathEater programme, the more time will be added to my sentence.

Great.

So I've gone Creevey, armed with a camera that was probably made when Hogwarts was adding on the Gryffindor Tower. And, as my one and only advocate, you get to see the results of my hard work. Aren't you glad you testified on my behalf at the Inquests? I just bet you are. I will have you know that, unfortunately, the Wizarding potions used to develop the photographs are not poisonous. And they taste a little like liquorice.

The first photograph is that of my cell. This is my window, which is only slightly above ground level. Of _course_ I should be used to it; I studied in a dungeon at school. This brings back such memories.

That is where I was sawing at the bars before they stopped me and took away my makeshift file.

That is my beautiful, stained, stinking cot. See the hair on the pillow? Yes, that is my own hair, falling out. I was always told I had lovely hair, strange and intriguing with that colour. Now, thanks to the well-balanced meals here at Greyhaven, the flat pillow enjoys it more than I do. I will be expecting my teeth to follow very soon.

I can imagine you thinking, _poor, poor Malfoy_. Don't feel sorry for me, Potter. I'd rather be in here, taking photographs and withering away to chaff, than out there with you and the Goody Cleanup Crew.

Have a nice life. I hope you die soon.  
Yours Sincerely,  
Draco Lucius Malfoy

 **:: :: ::**

Potter,  
How absolutely marvellous of you to have a little talk with the Warden. Now I have been moved an entire floor up! Here I am with those men that believe that my pale skin needs to be pawed at every fifteen minutes. I am so grateful, I could simply die. As a matter of fact, if you do one more nice thing for me, I will expire and finally be free of you. That last day would be the happiest of my life.

Now I have a proper view! Oh, Potter. How will I ever repay you for twenty-four square inches of grey sky? I know! Here's a photo of it. I hope you note the ragged edges of the window, how it juxtaposes with the delicate swirls of the stormy clouds. One of the guards said that my eyes are the same colour, when I was sucking him off. I made sure to look up at him from underneath my eyelashes, for a better effect.

I hope this shocks you. How else would I have gotten my cigarettes? Wouldn't you have loved to have been Robert the prison-guard? Your back against the hard stone wall, the chill of it seeping into your skin as I kneel in front of you and pull your hard cock out of your trousers. Or...or maybe I'd raise your robe and wriggle under and the air there would have been thick and musky with your scent as I lick the underside of your penis, from your balls to the crown, feeling that big vein pulse against my tongue right before I slide my mouth down; trying to swallow you whole, trying to press my nose against your wiry black hair. I would probably be able to do that, too. You're not very big.

I've managed to stick my hand a little through these sturdy bars and take a photo of the outside yard. There is no grass, you see. Apparently, it would have been awful for the prisoners' allergies; and we might have attempted to smoke it.

I'm sure this little note will get past the censors unscathed. I put a Word-Switching charm on it; wandless, of course, and minor enough to sneak under their detection spells. One of the few wandless spells I can perform flawlessly. No fear! With all the time on my hands, I will surely practice more.

Are you dead yet? I am crossing both my fingers and toes in hopes of that.  
Best Regards  
Draco Lucius Malfoy

 **:: :: ::**

Potter,  
Well, well, well. What kind of power _do_ you wield, I wonder? It must be substantial, to have me moved yet again. Substantial, like a certain mad Dark Lord's. And, you would never believe what I got as soon as I arrived here: _An extra sheet_. Potter, my cup runneth over. All my birthdays, Christmases and New Years have manifested on this one day. I don't know what you'll do for an encore, but I wait with bated breath. Actually, when I say bated breath I mean I'm trying to suffocate myself, but the Malfoy will perseveres. Damn you, Father, for instilling within me this pride of my family and our place in society; and as soon as I complete my sentence I will prepare to regain that place. You can't keep a good Malfoy down, Potter.

To thank you, I send you photographs of myself. That first one, you can see just the line of my jaw. And my hair has grown back a little, thanks so much from helping to raise the quality of my food from shit to pig slop. Four stars, Potter. Four stars.

And here I am on my lovely new bed! Now, you can only see half of my ribs instead of all of them. Hmm. I like this one; I had to go through a lot of trouble to ask a prison guard to take it for me. Right after this photo was taken, he pounded me into that mattress. My, if only you had been him. What would you have growled in my ear as you had my legs hooked over your shoulders? _Take it like you love it, Malfoy_ ; not only would I scream and _appear_ as if I loved it, but I would make _you_ love it. And want more of it. You'd want to slobber all over my skin like these guards, run your tongue between the crease of my arse. It would be a fun, happy time for you.

I know all about you, Potter. Don't think I don't know what you did with Wood under the seats in the Quidditch pitch. I heard you did a real fantastic job, Potter, nearly ripping off the poor man's foreskin. Not to mention you and Diggory before he met with his untimely demise; all that splashing around in the Prefect's bath. Never underestimate the effectiveness of the Hogwarts grapevine, especially when fuelled by chattering Hufflepuffs and intrepid investigative Ravenclaws.

You know what? As soon as I am out of here, I am going to open a School of Cocksucking. You will be my first pupil! First lesson: _A Little Less Teeth, A Little More Suction_. Everyone will be so proud.

Make sure to drink some arsenic at your tea-time.  
Yours Faithfully,  
Draco Malfoy

 **:: :: ::**

Potter.  
Hmm. It seems I have over-estimated your loving and heartfelt nature. When I first got your package and opened it, I was livid. How you must have trampled through my home to find these pictures. I believe you said to yourself, "Self, look at those old photographs. They are memoirs of a happier time in Malfoy's life. I will send them to him, as surely as a dagger through his cold, cold heart."

And the note you sent with it! "You can use these to decorate the walls of your gilded cage." Oh! I laughed! Until I cried! Gilded! Was that your word of the day from the Brainiac? Good boy, Potter, you can use it in a sentence. I wish I could give you a gold star, but I'm using all of them to gild under my cot.

That photo you sent of yourself. I used it to wipe my arse.

I've changed my mind. Don't die until I get to kill you.  
Best wishes,  
Malfoy

PS. By now you must be feeling the effects of the Compulsion spell that was wrapped up in the Word-Switching spell... keyed to you, of course. So now, when I'm being fucked or sucking someone off, _you_ will feel it. And be forced to think of me, moaning and writhing. Such a teensy spell, like a bug in machinery. Yet so effective. I was trying to get myself buggered this morning when I knew you would be sitting on the Wizengamot, but I had no luck. So, I brought myself off, long slow strokes that I've always loved. Did you feel my fingers sliding up and down your length, squeezing almost too painfully? And you must have said _Malfoy_ when you finally came. You would have been compelled to.

:: :: ::

Potter, you take this spell off now. Whatever it was you put on that photograph, _take it off now_. I do not want to see your stupid green eyes in my dreams. I do not want you to kiss me. That is unsportsmanlike, Potter. I've never talked about kissing you. _Never_. I don't know how you put in that part about yourself saying those things, but there are no more _I love you's_ in this part of the world, sorry. I didn't believe when you said it the first time and I will not start now. We chose our sides. That is the end of that.  
Take it off.

:: :: ::

I'll take off my spell when you take off yours.

:: :: ::

Potter,  
Isn't that better? By the way, you didn't really have to fuck me in the Interrogation Room to get the spell off. I could have done that with a password, easily. But here, this is my favourite photograph of us. Where was the camera, you ask? Behind the two-way mirror, silly. You should really watch more Muggle movies. That particular guard actually adores me. It was easy to ask him to set it up and let it rip.

Oh, I particularly like the one where you're biting my shoulder as you bend me over the table. Look at your face! I would like to think that is amazed adoration. How Robert managed to get it right as you were coming, is beyond me. Obviously, the man is of the Creevey stock.

I have copies of these, because I am a lean mean developing machine. How will the readers of _the Prophet_ react to see your hair sprawled across the back of my neck like that, bending forward to place a kiss?

Don't die, Potter! I want you to live through this.  
Yours Truly,  
Draco.

 **:: :: ::**

Potter,  
You're a liar. You say I didn't need to resort to this to have you help me out? First of all, you're only saying that now because of the blackmail. Nice try, Potter. Secondly, I do not need your help.

Draco

PS. Robert says he likes your cock.

:: :: ::

Potter!  
Ah, there is nothing like the smell of freedom in the morning. This is almost as good as the time _the Prophet_ published those photos. Your little PR team did some excellent spin-doctor work, though. I give them two thumbs up.

The Manor is in a deplorable state. So, as I sit here in my father's study, putting quill to parchment while a gaping hole over my head lets in the soft summer air (please see attached photo), I think about the many ways I had plotted to make you pay while I was incarcerated.

I could poison you. Set a trip-hex so you could fall on a convenient metal spike. For some reason, I couldn't Avada Kedavra you in that last skirmish. I don't know why, it just couldn't come.

But I think the best way is this.

You will see me on the road and you will give me a look that tries to convey all that heat we had between us in school, right before we had to part. You will try to get me to recall how your mouth was hot and wet, how hard we were against each other, every single time we snuck away. You were a good little cocksucker, Harry. I was only teasing; you won't have to do my Cocksucking Course.

I know you. I know that when you go to your bed at night, instead of all that awful red hair, you will see blond. Instead of freckled curves, you will see the lean muscles of a man. Being who you are, you only give your heart once.

This is a photo of me, starting all over. It will be a long road to restore the Malfoy name again, but I can do it. Please note that I am looking directly at you. I wonder if my eyes will follow you as you move around your rooms.

I will never look your way again.

I hope you live as long as you possibly can with that woman you do not love.  
Draco Lucius Malfoy.


End file.
